


See You Yesterday

by Rueitae



Series: Dark and Stormy [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Lance serves a very unusual patron in the tea/coffee shop he works at. He just hopes to keep the illegal whiskey stills in the basement a secret so his boss won't kill him.





	1. Just in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Previously under my prompt collection 'Dark and Stormy', this will have additional chapters now, so I'm moving it to be on its own.
> 
> The prompt was: Write something you've never written before.
> 
> I've never written a coffee shop AU. So I wrote a time travel coffee shop AU. (Thanks Engineer104 for the title and wrinkle - in time) (Ha Hahahahahaha. I think I'm funny)

Tonight was shaping up to be one of the blessedly quieter shifts.

Lance gripped the glass and cleaning cloth more tightly than necessary when the last patron finally stood from his seat. He was used to customers chatting it up even in these late hours, and well aware his own motor mouth was sometimes to blame for that.

It was still a few minutes before closing time. To be able to lock the doors on schedule was almost too good to be true in his line of work, and he prayed for it more days than not. Under the bar held dozens of coffee and tea cups that he’d used to serve customers all day - already cleaned twice over.

Beneath his feet, hundreds more glassware along with the distillery and wine cellar.

Coffeehouse by day. Illegal bar by night.

Lance hadn’t known about the illegal part when he had been recruited for the barista job. New to the city and without much work experience outside the family farm, he’d been thankful to land such a well paying job right away. The service part fit him well, to be able to socialize with regulars and newcomers alike. He loved it.

Of course, the mafia had the funds to pay well. The thought ‘is it worth it’ had crossed his mind numerous times. Once after the first police raid. Again after he’d arrived at work one morning to find the windows broken and the wall littered in bullet holes.

He’d tried to quit, only for his boss to insinuate that it would be extremely detrimental to his health should he do so.

So now he kept a calm facade to fit the job. A well of fear and healthy paranoia hidden underneath.

The man pushed in his chair at one of the many simple wooden tables, more polite than most Lance admitted. He adjusted his fedora and puffed the collar on his trenchcoat, further hiding his face. Instead of going for the door, he made a beeline towards the counter. Lance held back a terrified whimper, his stomach twisting in knots and throat constricted by his tie. The man hadn’t said so much as a word when he’d come in around dusk. Lance had nothing to base his personality on, and had no way to predict what he would do next.

Was he from a rival gang? Undercover cop? Would he interrogate Lance? Leave a message for a fellow mob member?

Shoot him?

Lance kept his hands above the bar - a sign he was non threatening - and made himself busy cleaning the glass for the fifth time over. He forced a warm, cheerful smile as the man approached. Shorter than he appeared from afar, it gave Lance enough false ease to find words. “Anything I can get you for the trip home?” he asked noncommittally. Who knew if he had a gun or a knife on him?

Unexpectedly, the man dumped a half dollar on the counter. “That was good tea. Best I’ve had in the West.”

Caught off guard, Lance found himself gaping. Nevermind that New York City was as far east as one could get. “Um, thanks?” he responded. The guy didn’t seem too bad. Tempered relief set in that maybe he’d live another day after all. “No need to leave a tip. It's what I get paid for after all.”

The unusual customer didn’t respond right away, and for a few precious seconds that seemed to last an hour Lance took a really good look at the man’s face. His eyes, some type of light brown, locked onto him from behind spectacles. They were inquisitive, as if sizing him up. For what purpose Lance hoped he wouldn’t find out.

Frowning, the man took off his hat, revealing messy auburn hair - a style unusual for men in the area. Lance didn’t have time to process the fact the man wore a single green stud on one ear. “You’re just a bystander, aren’t you?” the man finally said.

Lance involuntarily stepped back and dropped the glass. It shattered, the sound echoing through the far too quiet room. He was really going to lose his nerves now? So close to going home for the day?

“I thought as much,” the man said. He placed his hat on the counter. “Put this on. We don’t have much time.” After the hat, it was the navy trenchcoat. The man glared when Lance made no move. “I’m assuming you don’t want to die. Hurry.”

Lance no longer needed any motivation. He did as was told, the coat covering up his vest-and-tie uniform and the hat hiding his hair.

“Okay, I’m finished,” Lance said quickly. His heart beat swiftly and his hands shook. His nightmares were about to be realized. There was something going down and he was about to be in the middle of it. He was probably about to be kidnapped, that was nearly a given. He had no useful information for whatever organization this person was with, and he knew his bosses didn’t care. Maybe if he told them ahead of time, before they got into a dark alley. “Just so you know, I’m - “ Lance stopped mid-sentence. “What are you doing?”

The stranger was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, which while strange, wasn’t the weirdest thing Lance had ever seen. He’d had roommates before. Underneath the shirt, a sparkling green top with a gathered cowl. A silver necklace. The pants came off and revealed the green shirt was actually a dress.

“I’ll be done soon. Grab anything personal you want to take with. We aren’t coming back.” A green headband was placed amidst the wavy locks. A glare. “You’ve never seen a girl undercover before?”

The feeling of imminent danger took a backseat in his mind. “You’re a girl?” Lance yelped intelligently. It wasn’t particularly a strange idea to him - for a woman to dress as a man - but after hours of believing her disguise and the whirlwind reveal he couldn’t help but feel shocked.

“The name is Pidge,” she told him. She fascend the matching pair to her earring on her free lobe. “Stick close and you’ll be fine. I’ll get you to a safe place.”

Lance took in the quiet of the room. Each table had already been cleaned aside from the one Pidge had just vacated. All the chairs rested upside down, clearing the floor for the mopping he had been intending on doing before leaving. It didn’t seem like anything was amiss, but Lance knew better. The thugs from across town needed only the slightest provocation to drive by and start shooting. If they knew about the new proof....

Lance didn’t want to be here if they did.

“How do I know I can trust you? Who are you even with?” he demanded, emboldened by the nonchalance Pidge had so far exhibited. And the fact she hadn’t pulled a gun on him - yet.

Pidge unclasped a pocket watch, unraveling the golden chain that had acted as a belt. She flipped it open and bit her lip. “I suppose you don’t. No time to explain. In five minutes this place won’t be standing. Where’s the trap door?”

“No, no way. You don’t want to go down there,” Lance insisted. “You see what they’re doing and they will kill you.”

To his astonishment, Pidge merely smirked. “I’m not worried about the mafia. Where’s the door,” she stressed again.

She seemed to know what she was doing, and wasn’t threatening him necessarily. Maybe, just maybe this was his way out. “Okay,” he breathed decisively. “It’s right here.” Without waiting for her, Lance knelt and lifted the floorboards. “Once I open the door the alarms are going to go off. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine,” Pidge said. She jumped the counter - in that dress?! Landing near him, she helped peel off the other boards. “I only need a few minutes and we’ll escape through the basement.”

Lance raised his head fearfully. “The only door to the outside is guarded by the top brass. They’ll kill us as soon as they see us. I’m a good shot with a gun - if we had one.”

“We don’t need a gun,” Pidge insisted. She tore away the final panel and opened the door without hesitation. “Follow me and do exactly as I say,” she warned before climbing down the ladder.

Lance took a deep breath. He was either going to be free or die tonight. No going back now.

The cellar was fully lit at all times thanks to the owner’s brother being president of the electric company. The labels were easier to read and the energy bills child’s play to cover up. Whiskey barrels lined the walls and wine racks filled much of the center. Pidge walked barefoot through the aisles, brows furrowed in concentration. She held the pocket watch in her hand, moving it through the air above her head.

He cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed in thought. She looked gorgeous with the dress and the jewelry - even the short messy hair was exceptionally cute on her frame. Lance inwardly sighed. There was always something about confident women that Lance felt drawn to. Most days he would relish in it - tonight it filled him with dread.

He figured there was a decent chance either way that Pidge knew exactly what she was doing, or was insane. And he’d thrown his lot in with her.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but maybe we can just leave through the front door?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” Pidge told him quickly as she stopped in her tracks. She bit her lip. “It’s not here. Rolo was lying.” She cursed and tapped her earring. “Allura, the mission is a no go. I need an extraction for two.”

Lance was about to laugh, until it actually glowed green - just like a flickering bulb - and another woman’s voice filled the void. “Two? Pidge, you know the rules.”

“He’s going to die if I don’t take him with me. The Blue Lion isn’t here and I only have,” she gazed at her watch, “two minutes before this place goes up in flames.”

The earring lit up again, flashing with each word. “Understood. Transport is a go. I’ll see you back at headquarters for debriefing. We will be talking about this.”

“Fine,” Pidge said. Her face twisted in annoyance. “Over and out.” Without another word Pidge moved towards the far wall, pocket watch glowing brighter with every step just as her earrings had.

“Okay, hold it,” Lance finally said, stunned. “What the quiznack just happened?”

“Saving your life. You’re welcome,” Pidge said curtly. Climbing on top of a whiskey barrel, she held the pocket watch out against the wall. It began to glow a golden hue - brighter than the spectacle at the World’s Fair.

Shouts from near the back broke him out of his wonderment. The guards had discovered they were here. “Whatever you’re doing, you’d better do it fast,” Lance yelped.

“I told you to stay near me! Hurry and grab hold of me or you’ll be left behind!” Pidge yelled frantically.

The surprise from the voice from out of nowhere and objects that glowed without a clear source of power were overridden by the need to survive. Even if the situation made no sense, Pidge held a confidence that Lance was willing to believe it.

He wasn’t fast enough. Pidge growled and met him halfway, dragging him by his wrist back to the wall that she once again put her pocket watch against. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, keeping a watchful eye behind them for the guards.

Just as two machine guns rounded the corner, cocked to fire, Lance’s vision engulfed in white.

The scenery turned to black, with streams of white and green light dancing like the northern lights all around him. Lance forgot to breathe.

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. The void morphed into a room. Metal walls lined the sides along with strange machinery beyond Lance’s wildest imagination.

“Pidge!” a male voice yelled, accompanied by hurried footsteps. Lance tentatively opened his eyes to a man with two toned hair rushing up to them. His gaze found Lance, and there was disappointment. “You didn’t find either of them,” he stated.

“No,” Pidge responded, subdued. Lance had to take a double take that it was even the same Pidge he’d just met. The tone sounded...wrong. A far cry from the confidence of earlier. “No sign of Dad or Matt. No Blue Lion either. Sorry Shiro, Allura.”

The man, Shiro, sighed. “You did what you could, Pidge. We’ll find other leads.”

“Shiro is right.” The voice was the same as the disembodied one from the cellar. The woman it belonged to stood tall off to his left, hands folded in front of her. “We’ve made due after false reports before and we shall do so again.” She turned to him. “In the meantime, it seems we have a debriefing to do.”

There was silence and Lance found himself increasingly out of sorts. “Yes,” he said firmly. With confidence he didn’t feel and running off pure annoyance at understanding nothing now that his life was not in immediate danger. “What’re the onions here?! What are the weird glowing things - and we were just in a basement. Why aren’t we outside?”

“Allura, perhaps you’d be best to explain. Voltron is your project,” Shiro offered.

Allura nodded. She offered him a sympathetic smile. Lance’s insides twisted. Somehow he knew he wasn’t going to like the news, even if it did come from a yet another doll.

“My name is Allura. This is Shiro,” she gestured to the man, “has said. You’ve already met Pidge. She, and the rest of us, are on a mission to find the Voltron Lions,” she explained. “You see, they were scattered across time and we need to find them before the Galra do.”

There were several things in Allura’s explanation that didn’t make sense to Lance. He latched on to the one thing that he felt he could come close to understanding. He wasn’t sure he liked the implications though. It was too wild, too inconceivable.

“When you - when you say ‘across time’...?”

Allura nodded. “You have traveled roughly two hundred years into the future,” she explained.

Lance’s mind froze anyway.

“It’s not as bad as you think!” Pidge said quickly. She held his arm, providing a grounding presence Lance hadn’t realized he needed. “We all come from different time periods. Allura’s actually from ten thousand years from now. Shiro is from feudal Japan originally! My family are the only ones from around this time period.”

Lance stared. Pidge in her flapper dress looked as if she’d fit right in to any nightclub in the city. It was a disparity compared to the futuristic and downright alien clothing Shiro and Allura wore.

“So now what?” he asked, eyes landing on each of his hosts. “What about the mafia - the shop?”

“Look - Lance, right?” Pidge continued.

“How do you even know my name?” he squeaked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she evaded. “The shop is gone. It burned down that night by a rival - to stop Giovanni from making even more money. He was killed a few days later. There was only one casualty that night. Used to be only one anyway.”

The silence told Lance everything he needed to know. He would have died that night. He swallowed hard. “Oh. I see.”

Allura cleared her throat. “History will still record your death, but obviously you’re here now. It will take some getting used to, but I hope you’ll come to understand the importance of why we do what we do.”

“Welcome to the team,” Shiro chimed in, giving him a reassuring smile. “I know from experience how insane all of this is right now, but it will grow on you in time. It’s all human progress - just a lot faster than you’re used to.”

“Most of its human anyway,” Pidge quipped - a light smile on her face. Allura blushed and Lance couldn’t help but feel he was missing out on something very important once more.

“So what happens now?” Lance asked. His heart panged. If this really was the future, his family was long dead. He’d prepared for the thought of dying before them, but not being the one to outlive even his nieces and nephews. Tears pricked at his eyes, and contrary to his mood, a yawn escaped from his mouth.

“You’ll probably want some sleep,” Pidge said. “It was pretty late when I picked you up. Come on, I’ll show you the rooms.” She turned to the others. “I’ll give you my report later. I didn’t even get so much as blip in my readings.”

Shiro nodded. “Get some rest yourself. We’ll wait up for Keith and Hunk.”

Lance allowed Pidge to pull him along. It wasn’t the urgency or energy of earlier, for which he was grateful. The information on where he was swarmed his mind, and he half expected at any moment he would wake up from the strangest of dreams.

They entered a hallway with narrow, oval doors, raised slightly off the ground, reminding Lance of the interior of an ocean liner. Pidge paused at one, opening it and allowing the door to swing inside. “No one’s using this one. Most of us sleep in this area, so if you need anything just knock on any door.”

The room was small, big enough for a large bed and a desk. All of them bolted down to the floor. Lance stepped up over the threshold and shuffled in. He sat on the bed and melted. It was the most comfortable thing he’d ever felt. He rubbed his hands over the soft blanket and the down pillows. These items must cost a fortune.

“This is all pretty standard nowadays,” Pidge explained. She stepped into the room herself. “Shiro had the same questions.”

“This is amazing,” Lance found himself saying. He chuckled. “Not exactly how I thought my day would go.”

“Hopefully better?” Pidge asked.

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. He took off the hat she’d given him and set it to the side. In a strange situation, his future a complete unknown, he handled it the only way he felt comfortable. “My life was saved by an air tight gal - what more could I ask for,” he told her suavely. Or at least he hoped he did. He’d do better once he get used to this place and could match her confidence. “And I get a pretty darb room all to myself.”

“A what and a what now?” she asked, face reeking of confusion.

He sighed as he unbuttoned the trenchcoat. “Nevermind. Where’s the bathroom?”

Pidge walked over to the wall across from the bed. Tapping twice, a door - which hadn’t been there before because it had definitely been a solid wall - opened. She had the audacity to laugh as he jumped in surprise.

“This is balled up,” he breathed. “Is this normal?”

“Not everything,” Pidge admitted. “Allura is from the far future. A lot of this stuff was new to me too.” She grinned. “Pretty cool isn’t it?”

Lance rubbed his hands through the covers. “Feels pretty warm to me.”

“Okay, let's not use period phrases for a while,” Pidge said. Her face clearly said annoyed. “Do you have any questions before I let you nap?”

Lance frowned, and dropped his head in thought. He could ask if he was really safe. What these people did. What was Voltron exactly?

“Why did you save me?” he finally settled on.

Pidge’s eye seemed to grow in size, her mouth parting in incredulity. Her gaze tore from him to the floor.

“I’m tired of not being able to save anyone,” she explained. “We have all this technology and I still can’t find my family,” she continued in frustration. “Even if I can’t alter events - I can at least save one person.” Lance couldn’t tell if he was still breathing as she looked back up at him, continuing in a softer tone. “A dear friend of mine once told me that. I’ve tried to live by it since. We found Shiro. Keith and Hunk too. They were in the same situation you were - now we all work together to find Voltron and stop the Galra from interfering with the timeline.”

“That’s… a lot…” Lance managed, stunned. He coughed, the silence becoming slightly uncomfortable. “I always wanted to be more than a farmer’s son,” he explained. “I want to help however I can.” He smiled warmly. “And it's the least I can do for saving my life.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Pidge grinned. She placed a hand on her hip. “Stuff can get pretty crazy around here. I can at least guarantee it won’t be boring.”

A challenge. Something welled up inside Lance that he hadn’t felt in years. “I live for excitement,” he bragged. “The patrons loved me at the coffee shop. I could spin a tale like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Hang on then,” Pidge said as she stepped out the door. “Because I promise you’re going to see things beyond your wildest dreams. Night, Lance.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

Lance whistled. His heart beat swiftly, this time with excitement and not from fear. He was very much looking forward to this new chapter in his life. There would be time for sorrow over his loved ones, but at least he was alive to do so.

He liked Pidge too. She was self assured and knew exactly what she was doing - not to mention pretty cute and a kind heart to boot. She wasn’t afraid to exchange banter either.

Yes, Lance was very much looking forward to learning all about his new life.


	2. Out of the Frying Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and into the fire
> 
> Pidge takes Lance on his first mission! It's an important one - they believe they have located the Red Lion! Unfortunately someone else is there for Red too, and obtaining it means they must go to the most dangerous place to be during this time - a volcano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to write a sequel, but [ Flik98 over on Tumblr drew this incredible art](https://flik98.tumblr.com/post/176852061381/there-was-always-something-about-confident-women) from chapter one and I just couldn't leave it as is. (This is for you.)
> 
> Both Flik and [cgf_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgf_kat/pseuds/cgf_kat) both suggested the backdrop independently, and considering its the subject of my favorite Doctor Who episode I had to go with it.
> 
> A big thank you to [ Engineer104](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104) once again for beta work. <3

Lance held the wet cloth firmly down on the marble counter. He let his muscle memory take over, using mainly the motion in his elbow to clean the surface of spilled wine - for the tenth time today. And it was only mid-afternoon.

Getting wrapped up with time travelers, the last place he had expected to end up was back in a bar. Even so, Lance was grateful that his learned skills and natural mannerisms were useful for a stakeout of this kind. It made it easier to convince the patrons - and himself - that he belonged here.

A group of rowdy men whooped and cheered as they played their game of dice, something that Lance knew was illegal here. He understood why, remembering plenty of conflict over loaded dice back in his own time.

Patrons all around enjoyed good company, at least six different conversations happening at once. They ate the morning’s catch from nearby Herculaneum with bread and plenty of wine. 

Despite the similarities, this bar was not the kind he remembered. Nor were the clothes - tunic - he wore. 

He knew about ancient Rome of course, but living it was an entirely different experience.

He dared to look up from his task ever so slightly to side-eye his real objective. The muscular individual was seated alone in the far corner of the wine bar, sipping on the same cup Lance had given him nearly two hours before. 

This was the guy they had to beat to the Red Lion? He was big but didn’t look Galra. If not for the in-depth briefing he’d received before coming here, Lance would have said the man was completely human. That was Galra technology he supposed. Slav used a similar device to hide his clearly alien appearance when he needed to walk around the city.

Lance felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple, and not from the warm day and hot ovens. The briefing had been clear on one thing: Sendak would attack at any time of the day regardless of witnesses. 

Lance was not looking forward to fighting him, especially not in front of a crowd, so for the time being he needed to keep up his bartender act. As long as Sendak didn’t know there were other time travelers present, they’d be fine.

“Careful, you’re going to rub a hole into the stone,” Pidge quipped. She came up behind him, just exiting the kitchen with a basket of freshly baked bread in her hands. She placed it on the newly cleaned counter and reached over to the wine barrel, pleased to pour herself a drink.

Like him, she was also dressed for the period in a white dress covered by a pale green cloak. The gathered layers neatly hid her glasses and pocket watch. 

Lance glared, and Pidge conveniently took a longer sip of wine than necessary, hiding a smug grin. “It’s nice to know that some of us are less nervous than others,” he harshly whispered back.

It wasn’t that he was nervous about the mission, even if it was his first. The concept was fine by him; go through the mystical time vortex, blend in with the local population and recover information about the whereabouts of the Voltron Lions, then return to base before disaster happened.

And it was a disaster he had been promised. Major historical events drew the Lions out of hidden pockets in between time. This particular moment in history, and their current location, was what had his hairs standing on end.

“Don’t get your toga all in a bunch, Lance. We’ll be out of here well before the volcano blows,” she reassured him.

Water dripped between his fingers as Lance tightened his grip on the moist rag. “Why do I have the feeling that’s exactly what you told Allura before you found me and ended up half a second away from getting both of us filled with lead.”

Pidge fiddled with her loosely braided hair, adorned with ribbons to match her cloak and necessary to help tame her now significantly longer hair. A time traveler’s perk, Lance had opted to keep his hairstyle the same. 

He was beginning to think she looked gorgeous in any outfit. That, or he was smitten beyond redemption. 

“You have to take some calculated risks with this job,” she explained, not for the first time. “We have to find the Lions first. Failure isn’t an option. If Zar —” She stopped herself, continuing in a quieter voice, “If that guy gets his hands on even one Lion he could mess with history, cause temporal anomalies which will collapse in on themselves trying - and failing thanks to the power of the Lion - to correct the timeline,” she finished firmly.

Lance only caught the gist of her explanation, but that was all he needed. He loved the confidence that radiated from her when she spoke. Her vigor was inspiring. 

Smitten indeed. 

“So, Voltron is like, the ultimate time machine?” Lance asked, continuing his task to appear busy. Pidge set down her cup and picked up another to clean. 

“It’s a multi-reality being split into five parts,” Pidge obliged. Lance snorted as she raised a hand to adjust glasses that weren’t currently there. She glared at him for his trouble. “Allura says it’s more of a guardian of time rather than a travel machine, although I suppose traveling comes with the guardian part. Out of place and roaming free it’s already causing strange temporal fluctuations in the grandfather clock. In Zarkon’s hands they will become worse and more calculated.”

Lance nodded. He remembered the giant clock that sat in the main briefing room. Allura used it to pinpoint possible locations of the Voltron Lions. 

“This was part of the briefing, you know,” Pidge told him dryly. “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

“I was plenty awake,” Lance bristled, offended. “I just don’t understand half the stuff you talk about.” He leaned over, resting an elbow on the counter. “It just all goes over my head.”

Pidge’s face softened at his admission. “You’ll get there, Lance. You’re catching on fast already.” She placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder with an accompanying smile. “Your wife says so.”

Her tone was teasing, but it drove heat directly into his cheeks. Pretending to be married hadn’t even been necessary for the mission, but Pidge had wanted to wear anything other than just white. Per period custom, that mean she had to be married. 

He turned away, admitting only to himself that he was flustered at the idea. “Okay, I get it. Get the Lions or we actually are doomed.”

“Worse than any volcanic eruption will do to you,” Pidge confirmed. “Got your watch?”

Lance let his hand drift over his chest, his own time device secure under his robes. “Same place it was last time you asked. I’m not going to lose it,” he said, offended that she continued to ask. He understood it was his only way home and out of disaster.

Pidge nodded, satisfied. “Good. It’s your most valuable possession. Make sure you don’t.”

“When are you going to teach me those fancy tricks they can do?” Lance wondered.

“You mean the tracking and appearance shifter?” she clarified. Lance nodded once in confirmation, urging her to continue. “Hopefully I can show you on this mission. The only one you really need to know for now is how to get home.”

“Wind the watch to noon exactly and let go of the stem while holding it to any wall,” Lance recited. “I got it.” He could do this, he was confident he could help.

Apparently he didn’t show the same confidence.

“You were the one excited to help me. Losing your nerve?” she joked, taking up her filled cup again.

“I’ll be fine,” Lance insisted. “I just hate the waiting part, especially when all I can do is look at the window and stare at a volcano that I know is about to blow its top with us in its path.”

“Well you’re doing good - better than Hunk on his first go. Ask him about it sometime,” Pidge said with a grin, rolling her wrist and sloshing her drink around in its cup. “If this goes well, we can put you in any bar to listen for information. It’s the perfect guise for a stakeout.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and decided to test the waters. “What about you?” he teased. “What about your first mission?”

The cup slammed onto the counter, wine spilling onto it. A few patrons closest to them paused to look but quickly turned back to their own conversation.

Lance knew a sore subject when he saw one. “Gotcha. No questions about that,” he relented. He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “At my old job everyone had certain things they wanted to keep close.”

Pidge’s gaze softened. “No, it’s fine. You’re involved in this now, and you’re my partner on top of it. You deserve to know.” She took an exaggerated breath. “You know my family is missing. You don’t know that it was my fault.

“I come from a family of inventors,” she began proudly. “My parents are brilliant people, and they taught me and my brother everything they know.” Her tone turned melancholy. “I found my pocket watch one day by accident. We studied it for ages, until my mom discovered that plants in the same room would grow quicker. Dad realized it was a time machine, so we tried to make it work.”

Pidge bit her lip and sucked air in through her teeth before continuing. “I took it apart, thinking that’s what we had to do to figure out how it ticked. It - it took my family. It scattered them across time.” 

Lance caught his jaw hanging open. “Oh Pidge…”

Pidge composed herself. “I met Allura not even a day later. Mom had ended up in her time, and discovered the watches were made by her father. She told me about Voltron, and ever since then I’ve been helping to find the Lions while I look for my father and brother.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“You don’t have to apologize, Lance.” She smiled warmly. “It’s nice to get that off my chest every now and then.”

Lance showed her his best grin. “Well, you’ve got one more to help look now,” he said confidently. “You’re not alone.”

Pidge smiled more brightly than Lance had ever seen. She opened her mouth to respond, but her words were lost as the ground shook violently beneath their feet.

Lance braced himself with the counter, and most of the patrons did the same with less luck. Many of them were tossed to the ground with the unbolted wooden tables.

It was over as quickly as it had started, just like the last dozen over the course of the day.

Lance brushed the dust off his hair that had fallen from the ceiling. Pidge removed her white knuckles from the bar.

Her robes vibrated and Pidge fished out her golden timepiece. It continued to hum in her palm. She raised her head to look Lance in the eye. 

“The Red Lion should be phasing into this timeline now,” Pidge said urgently. “The tremors are getting more frequent. It’s time to drop the facade.” 

“Okay - for the fate of the universe,” Lance said, picking up Pidge’s spilled cup for a mock toast. Pidge rolled her eyes and jumped the counter, but not before he caught the smallest of grins on her face. He set the cup down and followed in kind, ecstatic to have had that effect on her. 

“Remember your briefing,” Pidge said. Lance followed her purposeful steps through the dust cloud and towards Sendak. “Don’t let him grab you by his robot arm. Galra tech is harmful to the timeline as is. It could rewrite your history if you aren’t careful.”

“Got it,” Lance responded with all seriousness. His hands twitched with nervousness. Once in on the action there wouldn’t be time to think about what could go wrong.

Like Sendak not being there anymore.

Lance stood dumbstruck. “Pidge - what do we do?”

Pidge held her watch out as if it were a compass and scanned the area. The minute hand flew around counterclockwise, while the hour hand twitched back and forth from the three o’clock hour.

Lance observed her wild eyes and fearful frown, trying to work out the situation at hand. She pressed the stopwatch feature rapidly, aiming it at the very seat Sendak had vacated.

“He’s hopped,” she said. “He’s sped up the timeline. The volcano is going to erupt sooner than it’s supposed to unless we get Sendak's arm out of this time period.”

“Wait, I thought we couldn’t relive a timeline?” Lance said. “That something bad would happen if we did?”

Pidge pressed her thumb on the clock face and a swirling vortex of golden energy appeared over the table, a physical manifestation of the exact problem they were trying to prevent. She looked him dead in the eye. “Now you know why Zarkon is so dangerous.”

Lance stiffened. “How are we supposed to find him now? He could be anywhere.”

“I know where he is.” Pidge bit her lip, pondering any possible course of action. “It’s weird,” she said, looking at her watch. “It says he’s still nearby, but… that would mean he traveled through time rather than spatially.”

Almost to spite their efforts, the ground rumbled yet again. Unsure even why, Lance wrapped an arm around Pidge and used the other to brace them both against the wall. Seconds seemed to last a minute. 

“You okay?” he asked once it was over, face planted in her messy hair.

He couldn’t see her expression, but her breathing quickened and it took an extra moment for her to respond. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks. Good thing we’re married,” she quipped, “you’re useful for making sure I don’t fall.”

Lance laughed and matched her light tone. “One of my many talents, including my sharpshooting skills.”

“I hope we don’t have to use them; guns haven’t even been invented yet,” Pidge moaned. “Let’s get walking. I’d rather confront Sendak away from the city.”

Lance straightened and looked around the empty room. Hadn’t there been at least dozen patrons before the first earthquake?

A multitude of footsteps pounded on the stone road outside. The door slammed open, and a crowd hustled into the room, eyes angry when they settled on him and Pidge. 

“There she is - the woman responsible for the earthquakes! Take her to the governor!”

Lance turned to Pidge, heart beating far more quickly than he would have liked. Her wide-eyed shock mirrored his own. 

Pidge stuffed her watch back into her cloak. “D-don’t engage,” she whispered hastily as the citizens crowded around them. Two larger men took a hold of his own arms. “We’ll be fine,” she continued as they were dragged outside. 

Lance understood the unsaid reason. They couldn’t get the civilians involved. 

The people from this time were superstitious, Lance knew from the briefing. But how did they single out Pidge as the cause of the earthquakes?”

Rough prodding forced Lance to his knees. He caught himself from landing face first on the smooth stone. Large legs came into his field of vision and Lance stopped breathing. He made the mistake of looking up to see who they belonged to.

“You see? The earthquake stopped as soon as you found them!” Sendak said, a cruel grin saved just for them. “Let them intercede on your behalf. Give them to Vesuvius!”

The crowd cheered, but dread filled Lance. He locked eyes with Pidge, whose face told a similar story. 

If they didn’t do something soon, they would become history.

~~~

“I’ll admit that was pretty clever,” Pidge said, “using your timepiece to make yourself governor just so they’d turn on us.”

Lance commended her calm - he was barely keeping it together himself. 

If the scene and the noticeable increase in elevation hadn’t been enough, Lance felt his own pocket watch vibrate against his chest. It meant the event was about to happen. 

They were upon the volcano now, just the three of them. Sendak had removed his disguise and towered over them in all his alien glory. 

Lance found some amusement in the giant purple, furred, space alien wearing something so human as a toga. His humor left every time the chariot hit a large bump, which was occurring more often now that they were on the mountain itself. 

Sendak held a jagged knife close to Lance’s throat and just within his peripheral vision. It reminded Lance of his predicament far more than the giant ash plume emanating from the mouth of the volcano. He tried not to make it worse by swallowing hard, but the rocky terrain made it impossible to avoid the painful cuts. 

Sendak concentrated on driving, but the sick joy of watching Lance squirm was unmistakable on his face. 

Pidge stood on the other side of their captor, arms in shackles in front of her. 

“The situation necessitated itself. Fortunately I could smell your Altean stench from across the room,” Sendak said in disgust. “The populace was easy to manipulate.”

“Why organize all this then?” Pidge pressed. “You knew at least one of us would be here. We would have reached the Red Lion near the same time anyway.”

The ground shook and the horse whinnied in panic. This close to the volcano, the earth opened up and split, causing the chariot to overturn. 

Lance tumbled out, the sharp dagger painfully slicing open his cheek as he fell.

He landed with a skid, scraping his skin and making it burn painfully. The quake ended.

"You are fortunate to find out," Sendak continued.

Lance forced himself up to see that the Galra man recovered and shot to his feet first. He held Pidge by the arm and they walked purposefully further up the volcano. The horse sped away into the distance, but Lance kept his eyes on Pidge. He scrambled to follow them.

Their destination was now clear. A sizable cave was carved into the side of the mountain, clearly by human hands. Foreign letters decorated the trim. 

Pidge struggled and squirmed as Lance ran to catch up, doing her part to get free from Sendak's grasp. She didn't complain, merely grunted angrily.

Until he took her watch.

"Give that back! It's useless to you!" Pidge yelled as they crossed the threshold. 

"Haggar will be pleased to find a use for it. You will no longer need it," Sendak threatened, placing the precious object into his own robes. He pushed Pidge into a large, smooth stone that lay deeper into the cave, letters adorning its edges.

Lance ran, enraged with his fist poised in the air to strike. “Let her go!" Pidge had saved his life, he wasn't about to not repay her the favor.

Lance was thrown to the ground for his trouble, and hitting the rocky walls knocked the wind out of him. He slowly lifted himself up, not taking his eyes off Pidge.

Sendak pounded an iron rod into the stone slab between Pidge's chains, her arms stretched well over her head. In a feat of strength he twisted the metal inwards, making sure there would be no escape for her but for a key - which remained back in the city. Pidge twisted and pulled to get free, leaning her feet against the stone for leverage to no avail. She was trapped. 

"This place has been used to make sacrifices to the volcano for hundreds of years. A fitting beginning to Zarkon's reign over all eternity." His words were proud, and although meant to send terror, they only enhanced Lance's anger. 

"You won't get away with it!" Pidge yelled. “There are others out there to stop you!”

"I believe I already have."

A bright light lit up the very end of the cavern. Lance averted his gaze at the sensory overload, but he still heard it.

A lion's roar. The roar of the Red Lion.

That meant the volcanic explosion was imminent. The alarm on his watch vibrated once again. 

Lance looked back to observe Sendak approach the Red Lion. He had seen what it looked like in briefings, mechanical in nature. What he had not been expecting was how imposing and lifelike it was. Bright yellow eyes pierced his very soul and it towered over even Sendak's large form.

"At last, the first piece to recovering Voltron," Sendak said, petting the Lion on the snout. It rumbled menacingly.

"Lance, get out of here! You have to warn Allura!" Pidge pleaded. The volcano rumbled and Lance felt the heat rise exponentially.

There was no time left. Lance clutched his pocket watch in his palm, the same that Pidge demanded he use to leave. 

But that meant leaving Pidge to die, and that was not acceptable. 

Lance turned his sights on Sendak. If he was going to have any chance to save Pidge he needed to take care of him first.

“Lance, don’t!” Pidge yelled as Lance launched to his feet. She’d already caught on to his plan, but he didn’t care.

Sendak wasn’t expecting him, the astonished look on his face saying as much. Lance rammed into him elbow first and it was enough force to send the both of them to the ground.

“Welp!” Sendak growled. Like a striking snake, Sendak wrapped his large, clawed hands around Lance’s neck, squeezing tight. Sparks of yellow temporal energy seeped out, threatening to ensnare Lance. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d be lost to time.

He choked, struggling from the lack of breath, but did not make an effort to free his neck. He closed an eye to focus his vision from the illusionary spots that flooded it. He raised his right arm - still holding his pocket watch…

… and slammed it into Sendak’s chest, breaking it into pieces. 

Silence filled the air and a grey filter came over Lance’s view of the world. There was no low rumble of the volcano, no sound of rocks rolling down the side of the mountain, and the temperature noticeably cooled to a comfortable level.

Time had stopped.

The impact itself didn’t harm the Galra at all, but the destruction of the timepiece brought a flicker of surprise. Then anger crossed his features. 

Lance used the moment to remove Sendak’s hand from his throat and push himself away. 

Multi-colored whisps originating from the broken watch surrounded Sendak. Although harmless looking, the ribbons of light confined him tightly.

“When Zarkon comes into power, I will destroy you first,” he promised with infuriated huffs.

The lights flashed and when Lance looked back, Sendak was gone.

Time flowed once more. The rocky walls started to crack from the increasing pressure of the magma.

Lance ran to Pidge and hugged her tight. No words exchanged between them initially. 

Hot tears fell on his shoulder and a sob that wasn’t his rang louder than the destruction around them. “You idiot,” Pidge said. “Now you’re stuck here too.”

“I was a dead man before you found me,” Lance said, finding himself oddly at peace while on death’s doorstep. “I’m not ever going to leave you.”

Sendak had her watch. With his broken, they had no way to escape the eruption. The cracks in the wall grew. If he was going to die, it was going to be holding Pidge.

The loud roar of the Red Lion interrupted Lance’s life reflection and he turned to look at it in awe. 

“The volcano hasn’t erupted yet,” Pidge said, her breathing wet with tears. “We should be dead by now. I… I think the Lion is preventing it.”

Red stood to all fours, leaning over them with a single forepaw. The Lion swiped and cut Pidge’s chain off cleanly, leaving only the cuffs around her wrists. Then, it bent down before them and opened its mouth. 

Lance caught his mouth agape. “Pidge, what is it doing?” he whispered.

Pidge’s brow furrowed in thought, examining the Lion. Lance could almost see the calculations running in her brain through her eyes. 

“I think,” she turned to Lance, a smile once again gracing her features. “I think it’s offering to take us home.”

Lance looked around the cavern. The walls bulged but did not break, almost as if the cave was breathing. 

He frowned. “But if Red is holding back the eruption and we use it to go home…” His heart filled with a guilt Lance didn’t know was possible. “Then we... we’re the reason the eruption happens. We’re the reason all those people die.”

Gently, Pidge took his hand. Her eyes held both a sympathy and a determination he wished he had at the moment. 

“We can’t change history, Lance. Not like this,” she said firmly. “This eruption happens. We can’t save everyone, but we can save the future by getting the Red Lion back to headquarters.”

Lance inhaled sharply. “Isn’t there just one person? You said it yourself, if we can just save someone - like you did with me.”

Tears pricked in her eyes. “Not this time. As soon as we leave in the Red Lion the pyroclastic flow will already be over Pompeii. I’m sorry, Lance. We missed our chance here.”

“We’re time travelers,” Lance emphasized. “Why not?”

“Because now we’ve both lived this event,” Pidge said sadly. “We won’t be able to go back to the same place and time.”

Lance dropped to his knees, just barely holding back the waterfall behind his eyes. “I hate this job”--sniffed to clear his voice--“next time I am going to save someone. I swear it.”

Pidge knelt and held him close. “And I’ll be right there helping you,” she said. “We should go. The Red Lion opened up to you for a reason. Let’s not waste this second chance.” She grinned. “I don’t plan on dying until I find my family.”

“You’d better not even after you find them,” Lance insisted. 

Her smile turned warm and soft. “I guess if my husband says so,” she teased.

Lance laughed. “I kind of like the sound of that. I’ll hold you to it.”

“You need my dad’s permission first,” Pidge said, helping him to his feet. “So I guess we’re courting until we find him and Matt.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “I - I wasn’t serious about that!”

She leaned up on her toes and planted a loving kiss by the corner of his mouth. His heartbeat soared. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to going steady,” he confessed.

Pidge laughed, a sound that became more angelic to him by every passing moment. “Your cheeks burn worse than I do in the sun.” She took his hand. “To the next adventure?”

Lance grinned and jogged into the Red Lion, dragging Pidge in after him. 

The next adventure indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)


End file.
